


groovy

by LightningMcGay



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Dorks in Love, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19807033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningMcGay/pseuds/LightningMcGay
Summary: erik lehnsherr hates charles xavier.(not really)





	groovy

erik lehnsherr hates charles xavier.

he’s opinionated, stubborn, passionate, and he hates to admit it, but clever. 

that’s what makes erik respect him, that he stands by his beliefs and has enough brains to back them up with logic and reason. 

however, he’s still infuriating. what’s so cool about his stupid accent or his dorky expensive sweaters? erik knows he’s just another rich pretentious snob. 

if he hears one more thing about how fluffy his hair is or how blue his eyes are or the million other things girls dreamily sigh about, he’s going to genuinely start crying. 

emma tells him that he’s plain paranoid and thinking way too much into it. erik tells her to shut up. 

“what are you doing here?” 

charles cocks up an eyebrow innocently, “gaming? what else would i be doing, erik?”

why would charles xavier, posh, brilliantly british, pain in the ass, significant annoyance in erik’s life, be playing games in the dingy old arcade? 

it doesn’t add up. 

“are you stalking me?” he demands.

charles sighs, waving a hand towards the screen, “no, i’m not stalking you. i’m playing a game.” 

erik narrows his eyes, “why are you playing bubble shooter?”

“because i like it?”

“you’re such a dork, xavier.”

“it’s a cool game!” he hisses out, affronted. “it’s... groovy.” 

erik snorts. nobody played bubble shooter or called it ‘groovy’. 

“i don’t trust you.” 

“okay.” 

charles looks more amused than anything, which kind of defeats erik’s purpose of trying to scare him, but he’ll work with it. 

he pulls out a chair to sit next to charles, to keep an eye on him. if charles does something suspicious, erik wants to be the first one to know.

yes, that’s the only reason.

“you suck at this.”

“i do not! it’s a stupid game.”

“you’re stupid, dork-face.”

“that was original.”

on charles xavier’s list of weirdness, the first thing is his use of groovy to describe literally anything, despite him having an impressive vocabulary.

erik would know. he got called a “presumptuous conceited ludicrous knucklehead’ that one time he refused to acknowledge that chocolate ice cream was better. it had taken him a second to figure out he had been insulted before he countered it by calling charles a twat. 

so yeah, groovy? everything seemed to be groovy. his pet cat, potassium? groovy. 

erik had snorted at the name, only to get the backstory of why her name was potassium. apparently, she was _‘that bitch, erik. she’s the regina george of cats. she’s like ugh, k. she’s groovy.’_

chemistry was groovy. star trek was groovy. ac/dc was groovy. rain was groovy. classical music was groovy. 

erik thought he’d grow tired of it someday, but for some reason, he kept coming back to his spot next to charles, to talk about grooviness. 

“my accent is not irritating!”

“it is!”

“have you noticed yours? it’s dumb.”

silence.

“my accent is not dumb!”

he sits down on the chair with a bit more force than usual, arms crossed. 

charles looks at him from the corner of his eye.

“what’s the matter?”

“do you always have to kiss so many people?”

erik knows it’s the wrong thing to say the moment he sees the dark look pass on charles’s face, smile falling off. 

“if you have a problem, erik, yo—“

“no!” he shouts, the few heads present turning to look at him.

he repeats, “no,” voice in control, face hot, “i don’t have a problem. with that. you.”

charles is relieved, it’s easy to notice, shoulders sagging, fight or flight instinct leaving, jaw unclenching. he nods, still looking troubled. 

erik hesitates, “but if i hear about how soft and pink your lips are or how good of a kisser you are, i’m going to punch a pole.” 

charles’s ears turn red.

wow.

that’s.. kind of adorable. 

he drawls out slowly, entirely unconvincing, given that he’s blushing all over, “maybe i am a good kisser.”

erik snorts. “yes, maybe.”

charles huffs at his failure. he pauses his game, turns to look at erik properly.

erik knew he was a goner the moment he saw the challenge in charles’s eyes. 

“you can find that out for yourself.” charles says, smirking and oh god no, looking at him was a mistake because erik notices how close they are, one shift from him would plaster him to the british boy’s side and–

he licks his lips. 

mistake number two.

he leans in.

mistake number three.

he pulls back before their lips meet, turning his face the other side, stare fixed at the floor. 

~~mistake number four.~~

erik’s always known his attraction to both genders. does it matter? no, not really. 

does the fact that he’s slightly attracted to charles xavier, bane of his existence, trouble him? of course. 

it’s charles. dork-face charles with his floppy brown hair and “azure/sapphire/ocean/crystal/sky” eyes or whatever word fanfic authors use to describe blue as.

( personally, erik would describe them as dumb. yes. charles’s eyes are dumb. they’re unnatural and get way too shiny when he tears up and light up the moment someone beats him at chess and always seem to follow erik around. so, where was he? yeah, they’re dumb. )

it’s charles who’s relentless, gives people way too many chances, is friendly and nice. it’s charles who erik had to reluctantly admit is not evil, fake, a vampire, or planning to take over the school by being enchanting or working his vampire magic. 

it’s charles who almost burned half his hair off in chemistry, who is not very good at physics and asks erik to help, who pouts when he loses to erik, who shakes his ass at dance dance revolution. charles, who beneath his mr. perfect persona, is a bit of a dork and loser. 

who shakes their ass at dance dance revolution? nobody. that’s #17 on charles xavier list of weirdness. 

erik dismisses all his thoughts when he realises he’s been glowering at the ground and thinking of charles’s ass instead of going to class. 

great, now he’s the creepy one. 

it’s easy to pretend that their almost kiss didn’t happen. charles doesn’t talk about it and erik’s much too happy to keep it that way. 

good things don’t last too long. 

it all comes crashing down when erik walks into the arcade and charles isn’t there.

he shrugs. it’s not like charles to be late, but he could be busy. he has a life of his own, outside of playing shitty arcade games and arguing with erik for hours.

well, arguing isn’t correct now. charles always prefers to call it a ‘colourful debate’. 

when he does walk in, an hour late, charles looks miserable, clothes messed up.

his hair is a mess, wet and clinging to his forehead, face paler than usual, looking like he’s just cried his eyes out. his shirt sticks out from under his sweater. 

“are you okay?” 

“charles?”

“charles!”

fine, then. if he doesn’t want to talk, erik can drop it til he’s ready. 

when he speaks, it’s barely a whisper, and erik wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t been paying attention to the boy than the game he had been playing.  


“have you ever been in love?”

oh.

it’s soft at first. then it’s jumbled and messy and stupid and erik doesn’t know why he feels like that.

of course charles is in love. 

“no, i haven’t.” erik replies, unable to decipher the expression on charles’s face.

is it hank mccoy? charles talks about him sometimes. he’s smart and nerdy and gets charles in that way. 

but no, it can’t be him.

it can be her, though. moira mactaggert who is sweet and intelligent and of course, who else could it be? they fit. 

they’re perfect for each other.

but why does charles look even more dejected than before?

..and why does erik feel like his heart is going to break?

he almost goes to emma for help.

almost is the key word because he backs out of it at the last minute. what’s he going to ask her? 

“hey, emma!” he mimics, throwing his bag in the corner and flopping on his bed. “charles told me he’s in love with this girl and they’re stupidly made for each other and now i feel like shit for no reason!” 

erik should be happy for him, right? charles is his friend. sure, they bicker and fight and he’s still infuriating, but the time spent bonding over chess, making fun of old romantic novels, and teasing each other’s choice of crappy games at the arcade is enough for even ‘grumpy old man erik’ to admit that he likes charles.

as a friend. in the most platonic way. what does azazel say? bros before hoes? that’s it. 

he can almost hear emma’s voice in his head. ‘do platonic friends stare at each other’s butt in gym?’

erik hates dealing with emotions. 

charles doesn’t come to the arcade. 

no, erik doesn’t mean just one or two days. a month passes, but he keeps telling himself that charles will be back with his quirky smile, his stupid laugh that seems to echo in erik’s ears, and his dorky science jokes.

( “they’re groovy, erik!”

“there’s no way you’re picking up girls with those kind of pick-up lines.”

charles waggles his eyebrows suggestively, looking ridiculous with the bit of chocolate near his lip, “i can be charming.”

“clearly.” he laughs, catching his hand before it can reach towards his friend’s face. )

he gives in and tells his friends about it. emma gives him a long suffering look. azazel shakes his head.

they say erik’s pining, which is ridiculous, because erik doesn’t pine. he doesn’t look at charles at school with longing in his eyes, no, thanks emma. he doesn’t miss charles. that’s just.. that’s just absurd. 

he wants a reason, alright? that’s all . an answer. why did charles never come back? wasn’t erik his friend too? does he know that he’s driving erik crazy with all the pretending?

it’s not that difficult to see it when someone knows what to look for. he misses it the first couple of times, until one day erik stares at him a moment too long.

charles’s smile fades away as soon as he knows that no one’s watching. 

day by day, it becomes fake. it seems staged, rehearsed. 

erik knows he isn’t the only one who noticed. charles’s sister, raven, looks at him intensely til she turns and bites her lip, concern unhidden. 

erik finds him gazing back. 

it’s a split second of eye contact, before charles averts his eyes instantly, embarrassed at being caught. 

he should have run after him. instead, he watches charles walk away quickly to his car. 

he seems frozen, silently walking to his home, thinking too much and nothing at all at the same time. 

what is wrong with you? he types on his phone. 

please tell me. i can help you. 

he almost presses the send button, dropping the phone on his bed in frustration.

almost seems like the word to describe his life. he was almost good enough, he almost didn’t fall in third grade and break his wrist, they were almost friends. 

erik snaps one day. 

he stalks his way to charles, using one hand to press him gently against the wall. 

“what is your problem?”

uh oh, that didn’t come out as kindly as he wanted to.

charles blanks out for a second. 

“what is– what’s wrong with you?!” he hisses out, “you’re the one trapping me against a wall!” 

erik narrows his eyes. “you and i both know you can get out of here easily.” 

charles turns red.

erik sighs, letting go of him. he should take a few steps back.

he doesn’t.

“what’s your problem?” he asks, calmly this time. 

charles shifts uncomfortably under erik, eyes fixed on a certain spot on the ground.

sometimes, erik wishes he could read minds to understand their feelings. or maybe get a way so he can show them his. 

if he could just know what’s on charles’s mind, he could help, he could map out all the ways to make it better. 

he doesn’t know how to put it into words, but all he does is want charles to know that he’s here. to know that whatever it is, it’ll be alright.

his hands move on their own, cupping charles’s face, looking him in the eyes right before erik closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to charles’s.

it’s messy at first, messy like charles and erik, then it’s soft and gentle and everything falls into line, it’s perfect, it’s amazing, and erik never wants to pull back. 

when they do part, charles looks at him with wide eyes, and in an awed voice, whispers, “that was...”

“groovy.” erik finishes, breathless. 

there’s the tension present again, the kind that’s always been with them after every argument, the kind that makes erik’s breath hitch, and now he realises that emma might have been right by calling it sexual tension.

it breaks the same way it always has, a small huff escaping charles, causing erik’s smile, the chain of events leading to one scenario: both struggling not to laugh before losing it completely.

he doesn’t want to bring it up, but it’s important, and he has to, “i thought you were in love with moira.” 

“no, erik.” charles smiles. “it was you. it’s always been you, erik.”

he says it so easily, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, and erik nearly dies of shame when he thinks that charles has been flirting with him for the past year.

“thanks for noticing?” charles makes it sound like a question, awkward.

and erik just voiced his thoughts out loud. 

“that wasn’t one of your famous amazing kiss, right?” he teases, trying to cover up his own mortification, “that didn’t live up to its name.”

charles takes the challenge and looks at him the way he had at their first-almost-kiss, head tilted, eyes hooded, smirk set. 

“i was surprised, you big dumb lump.” 

then he grabs the back of erik’s head and meets him for another kiss, short and heated.

“big dumb lump? you can do better than that, charles?”

so, um, yeah. there’s a lot of kissing involved. 

erik feels bad for making fun of people who used to sigh absently, thinking of how soft charles’s lips were, or how his cheeks turned red, or how tousled his hair looked and how easy it was to run his hands through them, or how his smile could make their day, or how cute and firm his butt was, or–

oh, erik was so in love with an infuriating boy. 

“charles?”

“yes?”

“i’m in love with you. it’s you. it’s always been you.”

“erik. we agreed on not talking about it. it was all i could think of!”

“you’re a cliche hopeless romantic.”

“and you love me anyway.”

“with all my heart and soul.”

“who’s cliche now?”

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in five hours hehe, also, title may change because this one is crappy!


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